


Claude and The Beast

by Kaappihomosapiens



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Battle, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood and Injury, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:55:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaappihomosapiens/pseuds/Kaappihomosapiens
Summary: Loosely based and inspired on The Beauty and The Beast:While trying to survive a lost war Claude tries to make it back to his homeland, but is forced to make a detour through the Cursed Kingdom of Faerghus. Can he survive being captivated by the monster in more ways than just one?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	1. The Cursed Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> During this delightful time of pandemic I've watched my share of old Disney movies and played with my dear Nintendo Switch. The end result is here.
> 
> Comments are forever treasured in my heart, remember that if you choose to leave any!
> 
> English is not my native language. Be warned.

The start of the war had been unexpected. It had swept across Fodlan in quick waves, leaving people, soldiers and their leaders in chaos and disorder. Edelgard had been the start of it, tearing the fragile peace like it was a piece of cheap fabric. Claude had just been able to get things going like he’d planned: he had started Officers Academy in Garreg Mach Monastery, had hidden his past in quick lies, easy smiles and jokes, tried to get to know Edelgard, the leader of the Black Eagles. He had made acquaintances, even met some he could call friends. Between the two houses, their teachers and the addition of Jeralt and Byleth it had seemed like an interesting start of the school year until Edelgard, without any warnings, had pushed the whole country in the brink of destruction.

They fought back. For years they tried to fight Edelgard. 

Claude had really tried. It had been a losing battle. Edelgard had been planning the whole thing for years, and when her troops were ready, well armed and on the move the Alliance was still arguing with each other, losing time to prepare for the attack. The Alliance broke apart as the Adrestian Empire stormed in. Claude didn’t know how many people died. They didn’t stand a chance, not with disoriented troops and lords without common aim. So he ran. Fodlan hadn’t accepted him, the Alliance hadn’t wanted him for a leader, and since there wasn’t a place for him there **,** Almyra seemed like the only option. He would choose safety over acceptance.

That led him into the thick, freezing forests of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Things hadn’t gone according to his plan after the Alliance fell apart, and Claude had been forced to flee towards Garreg Mach Monastery. At that time there still was hope for other people going there to seek safety and meet allies, but Edelgard had been one step ahead, like she seemed to be when it came to this war, and when Claude had arrived the whole place had been on flames. Rhea had turned into a giant dragon and had fallen, and later Claude found out Byleth had gone missing. Their father, Jeralt, had also been killed.

With Alliance borders full of Empire soldiers Claude had been forced to make a decision: he was going to go north, through the abandoned Kingdom territory and follow the shared mountain range until he’d get nearer to Almyra. And there he was now, fighting the cold winds and hostile nature in favour of keeping a line of mountains between him and Edelgard.

You see, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was cursed. After the Tragedy of Duscur things had gone downhill (like it used to happen in Fodlan, Claude had noticed), and something had happened. Nobody knew for sure, but it was like the Kingdom had disappeared. Not from the map, the buildings still stood and animals roamed around, but the people and memories of the whole nation had gone missing. Claude had only read about the place from books like everyone else. Some knew they’d visited the place, showing letters that proved it, but any memories they’d had were no more. The letters showed that a couple of years before Claude had gone to Garreg Mach the place had existed, but that was all knowledge that remained. Stories were told about a prince and his castle, about how he should have started in Officers Academy the same year Claude attended. How the empty classrooms of the Blue Lions belonged to him.

Some had tried to travel north to find out if the city of Fhirdiad still stood, but not many returned. Those who did were none the wiser, telling stories of a monster walking through the woods and deserted towns.

  
  


Between possible monsters and Edelgard, Claude chose the former. On his days walking he had only seen animals, no monsters, no demonic beasts, so everything was going quite alright in his books. He had a regular bow with him, a knife, warm enough clothes to survive the weather and some luck with finding berries, fish and water on his journey.

After a week his luck ran out. He wasn’t sure who found who, but things ended up with him staring at a small group of Empire soldiers and them staring right back at him. He had not many arrows left, the walking had left him tired and hungry and he was against six people. The chances hadn’t looked good.

Desperation does strange things to people, and so he fought. He managed to stab a hand of one man, earning a nice kick to his side. One arrow found its home in an eye socket, making him lose his focus long enough that one soldier had snuck behind his back. He got a nasty wound on his right arm before he swung the knife, making the soldier take a step back. It wasn’t enough, the other enemies were closing in. In a moment of disarray fog seemed to seep from thin air, causing confusion when visibility dropped near zero in a matter of seconds. Claude wasn’t religious, but he thanked whatever god had granted the fog so he could make his escape.

Then he got hit from a magic spell right in the head.  _ Fuck the gods,  _ Claude thought as pain spread like little needles from the side of his head. One of the soldiers had gone mad, casting spells in strange directions. Others were shouting at her, but the words didn’t make sense to Claude. His brown hair was matted with blood and the killer headache was going to come out the second the adrenaline was going to wear out. It was time to go. He tried to stand up, and since the swimming of his vision didn’t really matter in the fog he chose the direction where there was less shouting. His legs were a bit shaky but he got strength to continue as the sounds of the battle, the screams and terrified yells, faded to the distance. 

_ I wonder why they’re screaming in terror, _ he thought, but let the question go as the fog thinned out and he stopped walking. He was standing on pavement, surrounded by tall buildings. He looked behind him and looked at a solid stone wall.

“This can’t be real,” he muttered and ran his hand through his messy hair before remembering the wound on his head. Great. Now his head hurt even more.

The stone wall proved to be a massive help when Claude made his way through the streets. Injured or not, he still had an unhealthy dose of curiosity in him. He tried some doors. Some were open, some locked, but none looked like anything except rodents had lived in them in years. As he continued forward the tallest of the buildings came to view. A castle. The torches were lit, but other than that it seemed abandoned like the rest of the city. Something pulled him towards it, through the gate and to the giant doors leading inside. He distantly knew he should be feeling pain and being tired, but the pull he felt was stronger.

  
  


Impossible.  _ I died and went crazy. Or then just the latter.  _ He had seen drawings and written explanations of the home of the Kingdom nobles, the castle of Fhirdiad. It was part of the legend, a city found in books but not in people’s memories. But Claude remembered the silhouet of the tall towers from drawings, knew he had traced his finger along the picture of the big carved doors. 

He pushed the giant doors and they opened. Silence greeted Claude. A few lanterns and candles lighted the huge entry hall, but other than that everything looked - dead, maybe? Unlived, for sure.

His head started to hurt again when he stepped in and the big doors softly closed behind him. The magic spell that hit him must have made more damage than he thought, but the illusion he was seeing seemed so real. The air he breathed, the cold walls and floor under his shoes, the warmth of the candle as he lifted his hand near the flame. He had run into the soldiers near the border of the fallen Alliance. The old capital of The Holy Kingdom was far away from that. It was impossible to walk that distance in a matter of minutes. His injuries were fresh, proving the walk from the battlefield to the castle hadn't taken long. His wounds still bled and the returning headache at least made him feel alive.

A startled yell brought his thoughts to the present. A young boy had rounded a corner and Claude was on a collision course with him. Claude tried to stop but his vision swum as he tried to brace himself for the impact, and then -

He went through the boy’s body. 

“S-sorry!” The boy stuttered and came to stand next to Claude, whose best friend once again was the sturdy, solid stone wall. “Um, are you okay?” He asked, and then on a more frightened note: “How… how did you get in?”

The questions were a bit too much for Claude at the moment, and when a hand - a solid one, thank god - came to gently hold his back, keeping him upright, he stared at the person. Green, worried eyes stared back. 

Claude had to clear his throat before he answered. “I came through the front door?” He couldn’t help the questioning tone of his answer. The boy looked at him like he had seen a ghost. And to speak of ghosts…

“Did… did I just walk through you?” His eyes followed the arm that was holding him up. Not ghost-like at all.

The boy was now focusing on Claude’s injuries, his facial expression too concerned for a person who had caught a total stranger going through the hallways and bleeding on the expensive looking rugs. The boy let a nervous laugh. 

“That head wound looks really bad. Come on, let me take you to a healer, okay?” His eyes went to look to the dim hallway that led to the big doors. He looked scared. Hell, now Claude was wondering if he should be scared too.

As they walked further into the castle the boy introduced himself. His name was Ashe, but when Claude tried to ask what he was doing in the castle he fell silent. Ashe helped him up a staircase and into a room with multiple beds, all looking dusty and unused. The room was warm and there was a person, a woman sitting in front of a fireplace. She was so focused on the flames she didn’t seem to notice they had entered.

“Mercedes,” Ashe whispered like he was afraid to be too loud. The woman turned his head, mouth starting to form words but falling quiet the second her eyes reached Claude. Mercedes and Ashe exchanged worried glances before a gentle smile took over her features and she rose.

“You look like you're hurting,” she started, her movements soft as she came closer. “What’s your name?”

“Claude,” he answered, mesmerized how her fingers looked almost see-through in the light coming from the fireplace.  _ Strange. _

“Is it okay if I look at your injuries?"

He nodded and Ashe helped him to sit on the nearest bed. A cloud of dust rose as his body made contact to the mattress. Mercedes' hands carefully moved the tangled and bloody hair out of the way, looking at the damage. Next she checked the cut on his arm. Her gaze seeked Claude's eyes. “Any other?” 

He pointed to his side. "Just a bruise on my side, I think. That's all."

She cleaned and bandaged the wounds. As she worked Claude silently observed how light her touch was and how her fingers looked like they had no outlines. Ashe left the room during that before shortly returning with a clean shirt. Claude gladly accepted it and with some help he was now in a shirt two sizes too big on his frame. Also dead tired with a massive headache, but at least he was bleeding a bit less. He liked his blood inside of his body, thank you very much.

"Thank you for all that you've done," he said. The bed looked so comfortable, even if it was dusty. He thought about asking and eventually went for it, but Ashe spoke before he had a chance. “You can’t stay. I’m sorry.” The boy looked like he was in pain when he said it. “Our… master doesn’t like guests,” he finished lamely. Next to her Mercedes sighed. 

“I’m sorry we can’t help more. We’ll give you some warmer clothes and food with you, if that’s okay?”

Claude couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. “Hey, I’m the one who came in uninvited and bleeding. You’ve done so much for me and I wish I had something to give as a thanks.” He stood, testing his tired legs and wobbly vision. He was in no shape to walk out without help, but he was done testing the limits of the kindness he’d gotten from Ashe and Mercedes.

“It was nice to get to know you, Claude,” Mercedes said with a genuine smile. Ashe moved to help Claude walk when a loud crash echoed through the castle. Ashe paled and the smile died on Mercedes’ lips. 

“We need to get you out!” Ashe panicked, yanking Claude to follow him. Mercedes moved past the fireplace to a door next to it, opening it and quickly looking in before gesturing the others to follow. “If we go this way, we can go to the-”

The door leading to the hallway was ript away from its hinges so fast it took Claude a moment to realize where the sound had come. Ashe moved to stand in front of him - or had he gone through him again, Claude wasn’t sure - as all of their attention focused on the man entering the room. He had an aura of death hanging around him, his cloak and armor soaked in blood. He held a spear in his right hand and it looked like it had ripped through a body or two, judging by the things that had stuck on it. Claude sucked in breath as a single eye focused solely on him.

He felt like he was staring at an animal on a hunt, and he was the prey.

“Please Your Highness, he’s just leaving!” Ashe pleaded, but the man took one step closer, not seeming to care. His grip on the spear tightened. “He’s injured! I found him inside the castle!”

Whatever it was that made the man stop, Claude was grateful for it. He risked another glance at the visible eye of the man and felt a chill go through his bones when he was addressed. “Why are you here?” It was a question said in a tone that promised death if his answer was wrong. Too bad he didn’t know what the right answer would be. 

“I was making my way northeast when I was attacked. I tried to fight, got hit and then I went through the fog to end up in here.” He really hoped the truth was the thing the man wanted to hear.

They all fell silent. Then the man laughed, muttering to his right side like someone was standing there. But there was nothing, just air.

Claude cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for trespassing. I don’t want to cause any more problems. For anyone,” he added, looking at Ashe shielding him from facing the threatening man. “I will leave and tell no one about this place. I promise.”

The man laughed again, low and ominously. He took one step closer, forcing Ashe to almost back into Claude.

“I killed the troops. I always kill them. I tear them apart and the ghosts are silent. No survivors.” Ashe was shoved aside when his free hand shot out to grab the front of Claude’s shirt and the strength he used surprised Claude as he found himself thrown to a wall. He was left gasping for air when the man took hold of his shirt again, starting to drag him behind him. “The quick end is the merciful one,” the man muttered under his breath, once again lowly speaking to figures only he seemed to see, “but some beg for rotting in Hell.”

When Claude’s head stopped spinning and air had returned into his lungs he found himself thrown into a cold, damp cell.


	2. Taming a Beast

Even a stupider person than Claude would’ve noticed he wasn’t a wanted guest. One, he was in a cell. Two, no one had visited him in hours. Three, he was starving, hurting and going to die alone, which didn’t sound nice at all.

It wasn’t going according to his plan. It hadn’t after the whole war had started, but this was a rock bottom. 

He had put the silence into use and thought things through. Ashe had called the demonic man  _ Your Highness,  _ he was in the former Kingdom territory and was locked up in a castle.

He could do basic math, and the math said he had managed to get himself into the forgotten tale. The scary man had to be the Prince of Faerghus, Prince Dimitri Blaiddyd, a person whose name only came up in books and letters. Son of the former King, who had been murdered. 

The fairy tale setting meant he might not have been imagining passing through people or seeing transparent fingers. The fog hadn’t been normal either. It all made sense in a way that shouldn’t.

Or then he’d hit his head really, really hard. It was still on his list of things that might have happened. 

  
  


Some time later some visitors entered the cells. It was Ashe and with him was a girl who introduced herself as Annette. They brought tea, saying it was for his headache. Annette promised to bring him food later, apologizing for not being able to get past the prince, who apparently was making rounds in the hallways surrounding the kitchen _.  _ She had said it with sadness and fear in her voice, and even when Claude's stomach growled he swallowed his hunger down. The people in the castle clearly had complicated feelings towards their prince.

Claude thanked them for the tea, sending his thanks also to Mercedes. Annette seemed to brighten up when he’d made the connection.

“Mercie was so worried! She wanted to heal you more, but…” she trailed off, but the smile soon returned. “She makes good tea. We bake - well, used to bake a lot. Maybe we could bake something for you! Do you like-”

“Can I ask you both something?” Claude felt rude for interrupting, but Annette had already proven she could talk about anything for hours. A natural wonder of words.

Annette’s smile faded away as Ashe nodded. The tone of the question was serious, and Claude was glad they understood he wasn’t trying to be disrespectful with his sudden question.

He moved to stand, testing the effect of the tea. His head felt better and he moved closer to the cell door, glad to be up from the damp ground. “This isn’t an ordinary castle, right?” 

Ashe and Annette glanced at each other. These people communicated a lot through their eyes, it seemed. “It’s… complicated. This castle and Faerghus exist, but we were cursed. We can’t leave the castle without, umm, losing ourselves, so to speak. Well, His Highness can, but everytime he leaves he-”

Ashe coughed, breaking Annette’s sentence. “I don’t know if we should tell all this.”

Annette stayed quiet. Her gaze had gone to the floor. “I think he should know,” she said after a while. Her eyes rose to meet Ashe’s, and when he shrugged she turned back to Claude. “Some years ago His Highness was cursed. The people of Faerghus disappeared. He tried to look for them, but all that remained were we”, he gestured to himself and Ashe, “And a couple of more people: Mercie, Felix, Sylvain, Dedue and Ingrid.” She fell quiet for a while once again before continuing. “The curse makes him go insane. Every day he changes more, speaks to the ghosts of his more than to us. He used to be so different!”

Ashe put his hand on Annette’s shoulder, comforting her through the gesture. Then he focused back on Claude. “Every day brings us closer to the day he loses himself. We’re already losing our solid bodies. You really did go through me in the hallway.”

“And here I was blaming it on the head injury,” Claude joked, more for empathizing than to make fun of the situation. He was happy to see it brought a small smile to Ashe’s lips. “There’s no way to break the curse?”

“We tried, but nothing worked. Mercie was really close once, but it backfired. She’s -”

Claude remembered the see-through skin, the featherlight touch. He nodded, understanding even when Annette didn’t continue the sentence.

“We’re just waiting now. For the end, for a miracle, it… doesn’t matter. His Highness hasn’t gotten better. We’re at the point where it’s only a matter of time before we turn into his ghosts too.”

A sad destiny, to be chained into the fate of another person. “It’s a powerful spell,” he muttered aloud, voicing the obvious. The gears were already turning in his head, but he didn’t want to ask too much, didn’t want Ashe, Annette or Mercedes to know what thoughts were forming in his head _. _ So he excused himself, once again thanked for everything and went to lie on the thing that he guessed had been a mattress. Maybe years ago. 

  
  


Annette managed to keep her promise. When Claude woke up there was a small plate of food in his cell. Outside of it, well, there was a huge figure of a man. He was taller than the prince, and in his own way a bit scary looking. His eyes were sturdy but gentle, and he had left upon seeing Claude wake up. No words, only a nod and he was away.

The food had been good. Great even. It didn’t satisfy his hunger completely, but he was a prisoner in a cursed castle, and that in mind the food had been filling enough.

  
  


Things continued like that for days. He met Sylvain, who was also tall and had seemed disappointed that their captive was a male - it didn’t stop him from flirting with Claude, though. He got a name for the man who continued to bring him food: Dedue. Sylvain didn’t tell him much about the other man, just that he was someone Dimitri had saved.

  
  


The prince himself came to visit a couple of days later. He walked past the cell, deep in thought and having a conversation with the air, the volume of his speech going from silent whispers to almost shouting in anger. He’d stopped his sauntering when his eye had met Claude’s, almost like it came as a surprise he had a living person locked away from the sunlight. Claude hadn’t said anything, busy storing what he was seeing and hearing for later use. The sound of the man’s voice, the things he spoke to the dead, the way the fur of his cape had seen far better days, how he looked like he definitely hadn’t had a bath after the encounter with the Imperial troops. 

Dimitri had left without a word, even withdrawing from speaking to his ghosts until he was far away from Claude.

  
  


Even when the pass of time had lost its meaning, it couldn’t had been more than just hours later when a new person arrived. 

“Get up. You look disgusting.”

Felix certainly had a charming personality as he dragged Claude up the stairs. He didn’t really care if Claude was a bit shaky on his legs, and the small sounds of discomfort when his wounds hurt only made the man smile. 

Claude was shoved into a bathroom after their long walk. A woman with stern aura waited for them there. 

“Felix! I said to  _ bring  _ him here, not to drag him! For God’s sake, he has injuries!”

Claude found out he liked Ingrid. After Felix she was a total delight. She’d prepared a bath for him, said it was an order from His Highness to move Claude from the cell to one of the better rooms of the castle.

Felix kindly reminded he was still a prisoner before Ingrid threw him out.

“I’m so sorry for Felix’s behaviour,” she apologised as she helped Claude out of his shirt. The wound on his arm had bled through the bandages, making Ingrid eye it with concern.

“Believe me, after all I have witnessed during the passing week one man with a bad attitude does nothing for me," Claude joked. Ingrid didn’t laugh, but instead she excused herself and gave Claude a little bit of privacy as he washed himself.

It was heaven on earth as Claude got all the dirt, dust, blood and the feeling of the damp cell scrubbed off his body. He even had a mirror and a chance to shave his face. When he had gotten clean pants on, a gentle knocking came from the door. Mercedes peeked in, ready to heal and bandage Claude's injuries again.

When she left Felix came back, keeping his sharp remarks mostly to himself as he watched Claude struggle to put on a shirt with his injuries. It looked like he'd had a talk with Ingrid. He even helped a bit after he got bored of watching, insisting he had  _ places to be  _ and  _ not time to wait. _

"The boar wants to eat with you", Felix stated as they walked the hallways, this time on Claude's phase. Something strange colored the tone of Felix's words.

"The boar?" Claude muttered. He looked at Felix with a questioning glance. 

"The boar. Be ready in an hour."

He got no more explanations as Felix's sour mood returned and he pushed him inside a large room. The door was slammed shut and he was left alone to take in the sight: a large bed with drooping curtains surrounding it, a desk with a candle and a fireplace on the other side of a room. It was as way cosier than he’d hoped to wish. A real bed after the thin mattress of the cell? Heavenly.

A yawn made it past his lips. He had an hour before he was wanted again. He definitely had earned himself a nap.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It was Annette who woke him up. She was giggling and her hands were full of clothes. 

The declaration of "dress up time" said in a singsong tune was all the warning he got before Annette attacked him with the clothes.

"We haven't had dinners or anything like this  _ for so long _ ," she excitingly explained, "So I want our guest to look his best! These are His Highness' old clothes, he used to be about your size some years ago. I don't think he minds if you use them."

Claude let her speak as she put shirt after shirt in front of him, commenting how the warmer tones on clothing would probably look better on him. It really made him miss his yellow cape. After some while she settled on a simple black shirt. The sleeves were a bit too long, but she just rolled them up. 

Ingrid soon came to fetch them. They kept close to him as they walked, but the nap Claude had managed to take had helped and he didn't even stumble.

The dining room was warmly lit, the long table not so full of food as Claude had gotten used to during his Alliance noble parties. Dedue had made his best with the sparse ingredients that had been available.

The food smelled amazing. Claude sat down and looked at the other side of the table. The prince was not present.

Ingrid looked disappointed and Annette sighed. They didn't seem surprised their prince was missing. 

"Just a moment. I'll go look for him," Ingrid declared. Annette stayed behind, leaning on the table and daydreaming about the pastries that were on display. 

"I wish I could eat these. Or even smell them." She sighed again. "One doesn't appreciate being able to taste things before they can't do it anymore."

Claude hummed. He was hungry and he eyed the food, wishing he could take a bite. But he would wait until Ingrid returned, with or without the prince before attacking the delicious looking meat.

With Annette already speaking of the ghost stuff, Claude was going to milk the conversation as much as he could.

"You mentioned something about how leaving a castle has an effect on you. Can you explain that to me?"

Annette tore her eyes away from the baked goods. "We have tried to leave the castle. It got boring in here after His Highness started to leave for longer periods of time, so we started to follow him. To keep him safe and to see what he did while away from the castle. Ashe was the one that often went with him, because he's the best at keeping out of sight."

"I take that the prince didn't like being followed?" Claude questioned. Annette nodded.

"At first he wanted to be alone. Then, over time, when the Imperial troops started to test the borders and he… got rid of them he began to get angry if he saw someone follow or trail him. When His Highness started to change we noticed it affected us all. Ashe started to accidentally go through things. He had to stop following him."

Annette stopped for a moment when they heard noises from a nearby room, but when no one entered she continued: "That's why you walked through him when you arrived. He has to really focus to stay solid. It's a bit better now that he doesn't leave the castle."

"The curse really did a number on you," Claude sympatized. Annette laughed, lightening the mood.

"It is what it is. But it's nice to have you here! Dedue and Ashe missed cooking since we don't eat and they didn’t want to make food only to watch it rot away.”

Claude laughed. “Glad to be of assistance then. I assume that the prince isn’t… picky about what he eats?” 

A nod.

“Then I understand what’s taking so long.” Claude really wanted to devour  _ everything _ . Or at least some bread. Maybe the delicious looking soup too.

It was then when Ingrid entered the room again. She kept the door open, sending commanding glances on the other side. Claude tried to tilt his body more to the side to see if Ingrid had managed to accomplish her goal, but the angle was wrong. He righted himself when Dimitri finally came in, slowly taking in the setting. He kept his good eye on Claude as he made his way to the other side of the table. He looked like someone had manhandled him to a bath and succeeded; his hair looked unkempt but clean and he was without his cloak, wearing a dark blue shirt. He seemed skittish as he sat, focusing his gaze to Claude. It felt suffocating to be on the receiving end of the calculating look, and to lighten the heavy mood Claude nodded to the prince.

“As your prisoner I’m glad to be invited here. Can we eat? I’m starving.” 

It was bold of him to test the waters, but something about the prince seemed off - and this time maybe in a more positive way. There was no muttering to himself, no aggressive, sharp movements. Just a man who seemed more confused and wary than ready to kill Claude, and hell, it was an invite to Claude to poke the beast with a stick.

The prince nodded. No words, no other gestures, just the nod. Annette and Ingrid spoke something to each other near the door, but Claude couldn’t hear their words. The girls excused themselves and left the room, leaving the prince and his prisoner alone.

“They’re right behind the door listening to us, I bet,” Claude started, trying to break the silence as he ate under the curious gaze of the prince. He hadn’t eaten anything, seemingly fine just watching Claude destroy the food on the table. Claude didn’t expect a reply, but he was positively surprised when he actually got one.

“Most likely,” the prince answered, voice calm. His posture relaxed a bit as he spoke, like he had realized the man in front of him wasn’t a threat.

Claude rewarder the other with a small smile. Not a genuine one just yet, he wanted to feel less like a prey and more like a human first. Still, it was a start.

“Are you going to eat?” Claude asked as it was his time to sink his teeth to the meat. The prince looked troubled for a moment, then resulting in just shaking his head as a no. 

Claude continued to eat and Dimitri continued to stare. “I… the food doesn’t have a taste.”

That got his attention. He turned his whole interest towards the prince. The words hung in the air between them. They were heavy. Personal.

It was an opening. Invitation, even.

“I think the others are worried about your eating habits. As your humble captive may I suggest the meat? It’s good.” 

He swore he heard the other muttering over the word  _ worried _ . Haven’t he noticed how the other people in the castle worried for him? How they looked at him when he went around the castle, talking to no one when the real ones waited for his attention?

It hit Claude the prince was more present than he must have been in years. No wonder there were people eavesdropping on them behind the door.

When the other still didn’t make a move towards the food, Claude tried again. “Come on. Humor me.”

The prince looked thoughtful. But not about the food. “Your-”, he started, falling quiet. Claude hummed in answer, signing the other to continue. “Your name,” the prince finally continued, “It’s Claude, right?”

“I’m honored, Your Royalness. You remember it.”

Calculating look went past the prince’s face. Even with one eye out of the game his expressions were easy to see. His gaze lowered, looking at Claude’s chest - no, was he just staring at his shirt?  _ Right, it’s his old shirt,  _ Claude mused. 

Claude continued eating until the man spoke again. “You can call me Dimitri,” he said like he’d deemed Claude worthy of the right. It was such an honest request Claude didn’t even feel the need to joke about it. “Dimitri it is, then,” he agreed. 

Dimitri thanked him and carefully moved plates closer to himself before starting to eat. The conversation died and Claude watched as the prince - no, Dimitri - grew more distant again, the faraway look returning into his eye as he slowly stopped eating and eventually left the room. Ingrid opened the door, slipping inside with Annette and Ashe close on her heels as Dimitri returned to his mindless wandering.

“He spoke! He spoke to you!” Annette celebrated, jumping in joy and only calming down when Ingrid hushed her. She was smiling, too, so the gesture was mostly for show.

“He did,” he answered. “Is it not an usual occurrence?”

Ashe started to clean the table, but he sent curious glances to Claude. “He usually doesn’t speak to us. Only when he’s angry. He didn’t sound angry with you?” Ashe commented, handing the dishes to Dedue as the big man arrived. Annette was quick to share information, and Claude got to witness the small, fond smile drop by Dedue’s face before it was gone.

“I’m glad,” Dedue commented, but the tone of his voice spoke louder than the words themselves.

When Ingrid escorted him to his room, Claude couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into. He’d have time to think things through, since when the door closed he heard the key turning in the lock. One of the prince's orders? Maybe. Or the others were just trying to keep the one thing their prince had talked to like a human from escaping and taking the hope of saving Faerghus with him, he didn’t know. 

He’d analyze it later. The bed looked soft, warm and comforting, and he let his legs lead him to it. His stomach was full of food and his mind full of questions, and the two things combined made him drowsy. The damp and thin mattress would be just a bad memory when he’d wake up in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Writing on my phone is the start of a catastrophe. It doesn't seem to understand I'm trying to write in English. If you see funny words don't be afraid, it's just Finnish!
> 
> I'm trying to get the third chapter ready within a month :)


	3. The Beast Is Not a Beast After All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Time for the third chapter. I like writing different people interacting with each other and it shows: I got a bit sidetracked and now we're going to have five chapters instead of the four I planned.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this! The fourth chapter is 40% written at this point, but as summer and busy days at work are closing in I don't make any promises about when it'll be ready, sorry! 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos you have left. Stay safe and healthy <3

The prince started to visit Claude daily. First it was small moments in hallways, walking past each other. Even in those small moments Claude noticed the people around them seemed happier when seeing their prince nodding to Claude, greeting him and the others as they met randomly in the castle. 

Some days the prince talked for a minute or two with Claude, sometimes even to the others. It was a fascinating thing to witness how people treasured even those small moments:

The gentle gaze Ashe sent the prince as he apologized for accidentally knocking over a candelabrum, even when moments before he’d crashed into it because he was having a heated argument with one of his own ghosts.

The warm undertone of Dedue’s voice as he was thanked for taking care of Dimitri’s wellbeing, just before the prince started to wander the hallways again, out of reach within seconds.

Felix’s scoffs, directed at Dimitri but not biting as hard as they probably should have. 

Sylvain making jokes, even when the smiles Dimitri gave back were small and fleeting. 

Annette’s songs getting even happier and more adventurous on days that the prince mentioned listening to her singing. 

Mercedes seeming more solid aften the prince let her heal his wounds he’d gotten from attacking troops near the border again. 

Ingrid fussing over Dimitri in the moments he was present with them, forcing him to eat when he was lucid enough to realize humans did eat proper food.

  
  


It was interesting to watch how more present Dimitri was when time passed. The more he interacted with Claude, the more he seemed to be like a totally different person. Claude enjoyed looking at how Dimitri changed, even if it happened for an hour or two daily.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Claude had tried to keep track on the amount of days he’d spent on the castle. It had been weeks. His injuries had healed well, thanks to Mercedes helping him out, but Dimitri was the reason he couldn’t leave. Not physically, anyways, since he tried that and found out the prince was following him. Even when his eye was glassy and his mind somewhere else the prince kept a close eye on him.

That didn’t mean Claude was out of ideas. Most of the time you don’t need a door to leave a building. Dimitri most likely understood that too, because when Claude used a window to get out all he got was strong arms catching him before he hit the ground.

He still had ideas. Ideas he couldn’t use that well, but he hadn’t led a war for nothing. 

And according to Ashe, his fall to the arms of the prince was a victory to them all, meaning His Highness had recognised him as a solid person, not a ghost, and that counted as something.

  
  
  


The days started to follow a pattern: first waking up, getting dressed and then waiting for someone to get him to breakfast. It was for show, the door hadn’t been locked since the couple of first nights Claude had spent there since his way around the locked doors was noticed quite early. It worked as a mutual show of respect and trust, if one would call it that. Claude didn’t leave before someone came to take him to eat, and the others didn’t walk through solid walls to check if their visitor was still in his room.

Claude had been one step away from a total heart failure that day. Ashe still blushed when he had to talk to Claude, but it was his fault to appear through a wall when Claude had been changing clothes after a bath.

  
  


Dimitri didn’t make appearances during breakfast. Claude spent the mornings talking to Ingrid, who usually sat with him. If she was absent Ashe, Annette or Mercedes kept him company. 

After he ate it was time to wander seemingly aimlessly, asking questions of whoever happened to accompany him and scheming for escape purposes. There wasn’t much to do than to wait for the next time he would get food. The castle was an endless fortress full of doors that lead to rooms that were boring and collecting dust. Going through them was most entertaining with Sylvain, who happened to had used too many of them for unholy purposes that almost always included ladies. 

It was even more entertaining if Ingrid was with them too. 

After weeks of opening doors, staring at the paintings and trying to lose Dimitri lurking in nearby shadows from his tail the castle got tiresome. The small moments of Dimitri being in the mood to talk were short, so Claude had time to wonder about the mysteries of the castle. One of those was the realization that not all of the doors were left unlocked.

There were only three locked doors inside the castle, but Claude couldn’t sneak in to risk the trust he’d gotten out of the castle’s residents. One was the door to the library. Claude was heartbroken when he realized he or Ashe couldn’t open the lock. It was one thing for Ashe to describe to him all the books the giant library had when he couldn’t experience it himself. As a person who liked and consumed books for a hobby it really hurt when the experiment of trying to get a book through the wall with the help of Ashe and Mercedes failed. That led to them thinking why the clothes could get through with them, but solid, bigger objects couldn’t.

That’s also the story of how Claude (and Sylvain, who happened to just walk by), saw Mercedes in her underclothes.

It was how they all learned that if the clothes weren’t  _ on  _ you when you went through something, they didn’t go through with you. Needless to say, the dress hadn’t made it to the other side. Sylvain called it the best day of his life until Ingrid hit him  _ hard  _ for being a pervert.

  
  


The second door was the one that led to Dimitri’s chamber. Felix had told Claude to keep out of the east side of the building, but curiosity was a dangerous thing for cats and really exciting for Claude. Of course he had to at least  _ try  _ to get a glimpse. The lock he could’ve handled, but apparently the prince didn’t like the idea of Claude being even near his room. The man moved quicker than Claude would’ve guessed as he blocked his way, his grip on his spear tightening. Claude had waited for violence, for lashing out or anything like that, but the prince only took a shaky breath and loosened his grip on his weapon. “Please don’t,” he’d said in a broken voice, and Claude had obeyed. Dimitri had looked and sounded so tired, so beaten up, so-

Human. The door stayed locked and Claude stayed clear of the east side of the castle as much as possible.

  
  


The third one didn’t count as a door, really. It was a cabinet that contained Dedue’s precious spices. Claude only knew because Dedue had shown him when he’d asked. Their talk about using different spices on different kinds of dishes was fascinating and made Claude homesick. Almyrian food actually tasted like something, not anything like the bland things they served at Fodlan. That moment made him so happy to be a prisoner (or a “guest”) at somewhere where the person making the food actually knew things outside salt and pepper and didn’t seem to know how to mix poisons. Small victories.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Life continued like that for a while. Eating, trying to leave the place just to notice Dimitri blocking his way, chatting with the others or watching them train or hang around the castle.

Then came the day when Claude arrived to eat breakfast. It was just a regular day, normal even for a guy being held as a “visitor” in a cursed castle. But this time Dimitri was there.

“Isn’t this exciting,” Claude muttered under his breath. Dimitri must had heard him, because he immediately lifted his head and focused on Claude. 

“Good morning,” the prince responded. He looked like he was tired, but he was wearing clean clothes and his hair was tied back, letting few loose strands of hair frame his face. The food in front of him was untouched.

“Good morning to you too,” Claude laughed, a bit confused and alert of the fact that Dimitri was in the room, talking to real people and not the ones his head had made up. Ingrid, who was seated near Dimitri, was positively beaming like the sun as she greeted him too. 

Dimitri was silent as Claude and Ingrid spoke, only seldomly adding something to the conversation like he was getting used to his own voice. It was comfortable enough, and Claude saw how happy Ingrid was when some of the food in front of the prince had disappeared during their talk. It spoke volumes of the fact Dimitri had been and still was in a bad shape, if him speaking a couple of sentences and eating a bread all by himself was considered an absolutely earth shaking occurrence.

“So Claude, what are you going to do today?”

Claude turned towards Ingrid, dramatically acting like he was giving a real though to the question.

“I could try to see if I find anything new in the gardens. Maybe a new escape route?” He made an exaggerated gasp and looked at Dimitri. “Maybe I shouldn't had said that aloud! Now  _ he  _ knows!”

A tiny, warm and apologizing smile appeared on the prince’s face. Even Ingrid laughed behind her hand.

“I’m… sorry I keep blocking your escape attempts. If you don’t mind having me mess up your daily plans, I’d like to… show you something,” Dimitri asked, voice calm  _ and was that shyness Claude was hearing in the tone of speech?  _ “I won’t be mad if you decline,” he continued, probably taking Claude’s silence as doubt or fear of refusing.

“I think my tight schedule has some time for you, don’t worry. Can we squeeze whatever you’ve planned between my midday walking without direction and afternoon staring into the snowy landscape?”

“I certainly don’t want to disturb such a busy and strict afternoon. Do you happen to have time -”

“Right now?” Claude rudely disrupted. “The suspense is killing me. If this thing you want to show me is more exciting than walking around the castle or staring at Mercedes as she sews, please show me right away.”

“As you wish,” Dimitri smiled. He gestured to Ingrid then, thanking her for keeping him company until Claude had arrived. 

That’s why she was over the moon with her mood. She had mentioned that Dimitri, in his haunted mindset, seldomly had a conversation one could call civilized with them.

Claude stood up and held out his hand towards Dimitri. “Shall we go then?” 

Dimitri, as politely as he could, ignored the hand in front of him and rose from his seat. Claude let his hand fall and followed the prince out of the room, only turning around to wave goodbye to Ingrid. He was a bit disappointed his hand hadn’t been wanted, but then again, not many people had touched Dimitri with anything else than weapons in years. No wonder if the prince didn’t like to hold a stranger's hand.

He tested his theory again while walking, getting a bit too close to the prince and looking for his reaction. It was as expected: Dimitri shielded away from any physical contact. 

Claude was awakened from his musings when Dimitri cleared his throat. “I truly am sorry for not letting you leave. You- well, it’s hard to put on words, but your mere presence makes me feel calm.”

“Is this a love confession?”

Dimitri was shocked. “No! I meant it in the most innocent way.”

“Relax, your prudeness. I’m only joking.”

“I’m trying to say I don’t know why, but something about having you here helps me. I don’t want you to leave. I’m being utterly selfish, I know.”

Claude knew him finding the castle and the people inside had changed the course of their lives, and he understood what Dimitri was saying. In the same position he’d do the same. Even when he knew what it felt like being the one kept captive.

“I do like it when I can have proper conversations with you. So whatever it is that my company does for you, I’m glad.” He glanced at Dimitri, and sensing another wave of apologies coming held his hand up. “It is what it is. Let’s discuss that later, you have a surprise to give to me.”

They walked for a minute or two longer until stopping in front of double doors. Claude’s heartbeat rose. Dimitri looked at him, studying the reaction as he took a key from his pocket.

“It’s the library, right?” Claude voiced aloud. “I tried to get in with Ashe, but even when we combined all of our tricks we didn’t get in.”

The prince smiled. “I hope it lives to your expectations, then, since it isn’t a complete surprise anymore.”

It was Claude’s time to smile. “Don’t worry about it. If it holds even third of what Ashe described I’ll be happy for a while.”

The lock made a sound and Dimitri turned to Claude. “I know I’m asking for much, but could you please close your eyes?”

Close one's eyes in the presence of a man who could provably kill five people in a blink of an eye? 

_ Sure, why not.  _ Claude told as he was asked. Curiosity and excitement burned in his veins, and he suppressed the logical side of him that didn’t like the idea of not seeing at all.

“The lock has always been troublesome. It needs a bit of strength to get the doors to open,” Dimitri said as he gave the doors a gentle nudge with his shoulder. And with  _ gentle  _ Claude knew what he meant. He was out of his mind to keep his eyes closed, and this time he couldn’t blame it on head injuries. 

There was a small, awkward pause when Claude knew the doors were open, but Dimitri hadn’t made a move to physically or verbally guide him to the library. He was about to commentate it when a shy, gentle pressure of fingertips pushed him to move forward. When he didn’t move they lingered, applying more force until he started walking. Dimitri’s fingers were warm and strong, but Claude didn’t feel fear of his spine snapping or getting bruises. The prince was really careful, like he was testing the waters, and only applied pressure when he guided Claude to slightly turn before the pressure eased. Dimitri’s fingers slid a bit lower, his palm coming to rest flat on Claude’s lower back.

“You can stop walking now.”

The hand hesitantly left his back and Claude had to admit it made him disappointed. He didn’t want to analyze his feelings too much, but it confused him why all this made him feel the way he did.  _ Disappointed?  _ He could have understood fear or doubt or even feeling relieved of getting his captors hands off him, but disappointment? Well, he’d have something to think about in the dark hours of the night.

Claude heard and felt Dimitri step a couple of steps away from him. “Open your eyes,” he said, voice just loud enough not to be a whisper. Anticipation soared as Claude, feeling like a child on their birthday, slowly opened his eyes. 

Ashe’s description of the library had been good, but what Claude saw was way better. The library looked stunning with its high ceiling, decorative dark blue walls with huge windows.

And the books! Everywhere he looked there were rows of books, all neatly tucked into wooden shelves. 

Claude’s feet were moving before he realized he’d moved. He ran his fingers on the books, taking in the names on the covers. He made his way to the windows, watching his own reflection looking back. Behind his back, a respectful distance away, stood Dimitri. He was watching Claude with his head slightly tilting to a side, studying him like Claude was studying the library. With awe and wonder.

“Do you… like it?” Dimitri asked. 

“Like it? I think I fell in love with it and will be asking your permission to marry it as soon as possible,” he joked, voice soft as he turned around to look at Dimitri straight on. “Want to give me a tour?”

They walked around, Dimitri telling about the books and the sections, mentioning his favourite ones when he’d been a kid, telling stories how Ingrid had forced more than enough books about knights down his throat when they were little. For once Claude just listened, only asking questions to keep Dimitri talking when the other reached the end of topics. 

He didn’t want to say he liked  _ this  _ Dimitri better, but that would be a lie. He let his eyes wander when the prince was focusing on the books. This Dimitri in front of him was a prince out of a fairytale. The other was something straight out of nightmare material. One and the same person, just two completely different sides of him. 

As one topic ended and Dimitri fell silent Claude turned to look at him, seeking his gaze until Dimitri turned to face him too. “We need to have a talk,” Claude said. Dimitri didn’t turn away. That was the first good sign. He also wasn’t attacking Claude, his gaze was clear and the air around them didn’t turn suffocating.

“Ask what you need to know,” the prince whispered, like he had known the topic would come sooner or later.

Claude kept silent, watching Dimitri to make sure he meant what he’d said. He didn’t want to push him to tell him anything. If he was stuck in the castle he’d much rather be on good terms with the other.

“What happened?”

It was a simple question. A simple question for a complicated explanation, Claude was sure of that. “The way you all live here isn’t exactly what I’d call normal.”

Pain filled Dimitri’s eye. He turned his face away. It seemed like he had to physically force himself to stay put. Claude saw how tightly his hands had curled into fists.

“How much do you know?” He asked in return.

Claude explained what he knew. How all described happenings stopped at a certain point, how there wasn’t  _ anyone  _ who remembered  _ anything  _ about Faerghus or the people who’d lived in there. How the place was rumored to be cursed with a monster killing off people venturing inside the Kingdom borders. Dimitri visibly winced when Claude mentioned the rumored monster. 

It was when Claude told about the war racing in Fodlan that Dimitri seemed to jump out of his inner musings. Claude was honest with being the leader of the Alliance. Then the name  _ Edelgard  _ was on the air and the prince grabbed the front of Claude’s shirt inhumanly fast.

“Don’t  _ ever  _ mention that name here!” He shouted, mood and behaviour taking a complete turn. Claude tried to get out of the hold, but Dimitri was too strong. He was slowly lifting him up as he started to murmur darkly, a bit by bit starting to cut off Claude’s airways. 

“Di- mit...ri…” Claude pleaded, but it wasn’t like the other was listening to him. Dark spots were appearing into the edges of his vision. He gathered whatever strength and air he had and tried yelling: “I’m not her!” It came out mostly as a hoarse whisper.

It was enough. 

He was dropped to the floor, left gasping for air as Dimitri backed away next to the bookshelf, leaning against it for support. He looked around like he was lost until his eye found Claude again.

“Claude!” He yelled, and the man in question realized it must’ve been the second time Dimitri had said his name aloud. Not the time or place to think about that, anyway.

Dimitri took a hesitant step forward when Claude didn’t react. “Claude?” 

_ Third time. _

“I’m… okay.” 

He was getting bad at lying, at least based on the look on Dimitri’s face. The prince moved, wanting to be closer but being afraid of going to Claude at the same time. If he hadn’t been strangled just seconds before Claude could have called it cute. This time it was more of trying to make sure it was Dimitri, the fairytale prince, and not a madness ridden beast who definitely didn’t like  _ Edelgard  _ as a concept, before gesturing to the other it was okay to come to him.

“Next time warn me when storytime gets physical.”

“This isn’t a matter of joking!” Dimitri panicked. He went on his knees next to Claude, keeping his hands near his own body. “How badly did I hurt you?”

Claude raised his hands to his neck, feeling the damage. “I have suffered worse in the war. It’s going to bruise. I’ll live.” He studied Dimitri as he spoke. Guilt was at the top five emotions visible on his face. Fairytale Dimitri, then. With that one he could speak.

“Are you going to hurt me if I mention that name again?”

The prince sighed. “Probably. I lose control of myself whenI get too emotional. That person… is the reason I’ve lost my people. The reason why there’s this curse and part of the reason I’m- like this,” he finished, gesturing to himself when he couldn’t find words to explain it.

Claude nodded. “Seems like her plan to take over started with wiping Faerghus off the map.” 

“When she arrived at the castle that day she said that the curse only amplifies what I already am. She made me lose my family once again. She made me lose my mind. Most days I can’t tell if I’m talking to a ghost or one of my childhood friends.”

When he stopped speaking Claude let his brain do the work. Edelgard had thought of everything. Taking out the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus meant she didn’t have to fight on two fronts. One enemy less. And making sure no one remembered or knew about the possible, even if a bit crazy, ally was just brilliant.

“Why don’t you just walk out, go stab her and be rid of the curse?”

Dimitri changed his position, leaning back on the bookshelf behind him. Claude eyed him carefully. When you get assassination attempts as your birthday gifts as a child you learn not to give a second change. Or third. He’d failed with Dimitri anyways. He probably wouldn’t learn even if the man stabbed him with his spear next.

Maybe he should check his head with Mercedes, just in case. All of the people he’d decided to have this weird choke-trust relationship was with a man who was capable enough to crush a wooden shelf with his fingers.

Claude blinked. Yep, he’d seen right. There was a broken shelf where Dimitri had grabbed one for support earlier.

Dimitri followed his line of sight. “I tried. The curse gives me the ability to move around the land within seconds. When I hit the border I end up back at the castle.”

She really had thought of everything. 

Or had she?

“I’m glad we had this talk,” Claude commented. He moved to sit next to Dimitri, complaining how the sturdy shelf behind their backs was uncomfortable. Dimitri hummed.

  
  


That’s how Dedue found them, sitting against the bookshelf, having a pleasant conversation about the books that Dimitri had almost crushed. A interrogative  _ “Your Highness”  _ was left hanging on the air as Dedue took in the darkening bruises on Claude’s neck.

“We had a delightful chat,” was all Claude was willing to expose, and Dedue, being himself, was content of telling them he had food ready in the dining room.

  
  
  
  


When they arrived at the room Mercedes was already sitting in one of the chairs. Dedue hadn’t wasted any time getting her to get in before them. Claude had to admit that without the interference the bruises on his neck would’ve been just another secret to cover.

Mercedes gave Dimitri a look that was gentle and scary at the same time - Claude needed her to teach him how to look like that. It’d give him advantage in negotiations. “If this is how you chat, I don’t want to ever see how you fight,” she said in her singsong voice. A fair warning, doubled with the look she gave to Claude - the meaning most clear: no secret injuries and hiding them from her.

Considering all that had happened, Claude counted defeating one locked door a victory, even with the bruises he’d gained along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! Any thoughts? Please share.


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